


Feels Like I'm Dreaming But I'm Not Sleeping

by questceque_cest



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Anal Sex, Cocaine, Drugged Sex, Drugs, Glam Rock, Glitter, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Rock Stars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-26
Updated: 2012-05-26
Packaged: 2017-11-06 01:14:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/413085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/questceque_cest/pseuds/questceque_cest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>We went insane when we took cocaine</i> </p><p>Kurt Hummel is <i>going</i> to be a rockstar and he will stop at nothing to achieve stardom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feels Like I'm Dreaming But I'm Not Sleeping

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning: Drug Usage**  
>   

Kurt Hummel always knew he was going to be a star.  Ever since elementary school, Kurt believed that musical theatre was his true passion.  Countless hours were spent watching movie musicals and giving impromptu concerts for his parents in the living room.

This is why when he turned nineteen, Kurt had moved from the midwest to Manhattan to pursue his passion. 

Being a young man in New York meant that he had the opportunity to explore the various sides of the city.  Kurt had been to every club imaginable; no stone was left unturned in the Big Apple.  Oddly enough, he didn’t enjoy the quaint jazz bistros that turned into places for poetry slam competitions, or the underground hipster cubs with bands whose names would be too mainstream once spoken.  It was on his 23rd birthday that Kurt Hummel found his _true_ passion. 

His roommate, Daniel, from NYU’s dance program, had taken him to a glam rock club, Electric Transmission, a couple blocks away from their ever-so-cramped and ludicrously expensive apartment.

 _Yeah, right_ , he had thought, as he had handed his Dolce and Gabbana pea coat to the fuschia haired girl working the coat check once he had entered the poorly lit and grimy club.  Kurt had surveyed the patrons of the club and even _he_ was disgusted by the excessive usage of latex and studs in the clothing.  He and his roommate had bought drinks from the bar and stood idly by as they waited for the band to take the stage.  Kurt’s disdain for the area had melted when the musicians, all clad in over-the-top metallic outfits and ridiculously made-up faces, graced the stage before him.  His grip on his long island ice tea had tightened as he began to inspect the intricate costumes donned by the group. Oh, the glitter threading, the beads, the _sequins_. This was everything Kurt never knew he wanted. 

Once the frontman had grabbed the microphone with a flourish as the drummer behind had begun a steady rhythm on the bass drum, Kurt had leaned into his head-banging roommate and said, grinning, “Goodbye, Broadway.”

***

 

Kurt wasn’t an idiot.  Being on the Great White Way as a successful countertenor was an absurd pipe dream.  They were a dying breed; he had known this all too well.  Still, this was what he’d wanted to do since he was seven years old, and something that ingrained in your mind is difficult to concede. 

He had already been training with the musical theatre program at NYU for three years now and was set to graduate soon.  Kurt did not want his education to go to waste, or else this would have been a _very_ costly soul-searching mission.  Still, ever since his birthday, Kurt couldn’t forget the joy he had felt surge through him when he shimmied and fist pumped to the wailing of the lead singer. Within weeks, Kurt’s iPod had drastically changed from containing the original Broadway, the London, and revival cast recordings of various musicals, to albums by David Bowie and the New York Dolls. 

Being in a musical theatre program in New York meant that Kurt had access to a wide array of vocally and instrumentally gifted individuals.  Kurt was fortunate that Daniel was a slightly above average bassist, and that he was decently acquainted with a soprano who drummed and tenor who played guitar right in his theatre program. 

Kurt had broached the topic to his classmates during a quick fifteen minute stretch break from a particularly difficult dance number in _Pal Joey_.  He had jogged over to Britta and Ben, who were soothing their aching muscles, and had told them about his recent epiphany.    At first, Britta had been hesitant since she wasn’t familiar with the musical stylings of glam rock, but Ben had quickly agreed, as he had already been working on a couple songs.  After some prodding and promises of designing her own costume, Britta had agreed to go to Kurt and Daniel’s apartment later on that evening with Ben to discuss their band formation. 

Kurt had grinned to himself as he skipped back to his mark on stage once their break finished. He was one step closer to making his dream a reality.

That evening, Kurt had warmly welcomed his classmates into his confined living space.  After introducing Daniel to the two, the four students had sat in the living room on the few pieces of furniture that they owned.  Ben and Britta had shared a very narrow love seat, while Daniel had sprawled out on the floor.  Kurt had made coffee and took his seat on his favorite club chair.  The group had begun a lively debate about the logistics of the band, including how they would afford all necessary equipment and the tone of music they wished to achieve.  Perhaps the most spirited of conversations for the evening had been regarding the name of the band.  Kurt had ultimately won when he suggested they should be called Glitter Thirst; it was quirky enough to be memorable, went along with their glam rock feel and was actually kind of badass. 

Britta had taken a long sip from her country rose teacup and proposed they find a manager because they would be able to find gigs and handle their PR, in the event Glitter Thirst made it _that_ big.  Kurt had furrowed his brow as unfortunately, this was one aspect he had overlooked.  Leaning back onto his elbows, Daniel had excitedly suggested that one of his close friend’s brother was an agent for semi-popular underground bands in New York.    “He manages Memory Driven, can you believe it?! I’ll give Dennis a call tomorrow ask him if his bro will do this for us.”

Kurt had remembered how Daniel’s eyes sparked at the possibility of them having the same agent as Memory Driven, one of the most well received riot grrrl bands in NYC.  The four had delicately, as to avoid a harsh scolding from Kurt, clinked their cups together in agreement that Glitter Thirst was on their way to the big time.  Kurt Hummel had no idea what was in store.

 

***

  


Over that weekend, Daniel and Kurt had traveled to a local coffee shop a couple subway stops from their apartment to meet Dennis and his brother.  Daniel had ran towards his friends when he had seen the brothers sitting on the wrought iron patio set outside the shop.  Kurt had lingered behind and scrutinized the two men in front of him, one of whom possibly possessed his entire future in his hands.  Their potential manager was in his mid-twenties and was boyishly good looking; his sandy brown was slicked back in a slight coif and green eyes had sparkled as he laughed at a jibe from Daniel.  Kurt had approached the group and Daniel broke apart from his friends for introductions. 

“Kurt Hummel, this is my very close friend Dennis. And this man here,” Daniel had said as he pulled the smirking brunet in front, “is Sebastian Smythe. Sebastian, Kurt.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Sebastian had drawled as he extended his hand. 

Kurt had eyed him over and strongly met his grasp. “Pleasure is all mine.”

Daniel had desperately wanted to catch up with Dennis, so he had left Sebastian and Kurt alone at the coffee shop to discuss Glitter Thirst.    “Firstly,” Sebastian began as he sat down, “I want know how you sound.  Who’s singing? I assume it’ll be the blonde?”

“Actually, I’m lead. The band was my idea and I feel my vocals are best suited for the format we’re taking,” Kurt had snapped. He had brought out his ipod from his coat and played an MP3 of him singing a few lines from an acoustic song Ben had written.  Kurt had felt his temper flare when Sebastian had snickered three notes in.

“Are you kidding me? _You’re_ singing? Please, this sounds like a child squealing while being murdered.”

“Pleasant imagery,” Kurt had glared, his fingers scratching at the edges of his iPod. 

“I’m being completely honest with you, Hummel.  Have you seen the caliber of the bands I manage? They bring quality to what they’re doing and I cannot fathom Glitter Thirst delivering in terms of _quality_ ,” he had sneered as he leaned back into his chair.  “Truth be told, I’m doing this mostly as a favor to Daniel, so be grateful you know him.”

“You’re a real asshole, you know that, right?” Kurt’s lips had pursed as he shoved his iPod back into his pocket.

Sebastian had crossed his arms against his chest as a smug smile crawled across his lips. “Oh, I’m perfectly aware,” he had said, the edges of his eyes crinkling. “I do have to admit, though, you have the perfect womanly face required for the androgynous glam look. That will probably be your only saving grace, because you and I both know in terms of musicality you guys are fucked.”

“I can see why Daniel never mentions you.” Kurt had stood up and harshly scraped the chair against the pavement.  Sebastian had followed suit, his arms still folded across his body. 

“Likewise.”

 

***

  


In terms of being a manager, Sebastian had been fantastic.  Glitter Thirst had played local gigs around the city every Friday night for the last couple months.  He had made sure that the band obtained everything required in order for them to complete their setlist, always keeping them in the loop regarding local promotion.  Because of Sebastian Smythe, the group had gained quite the local following and were increasing in notoriety in the glam rock scene.  Reviews from alternative newspapers and magazines had declared them to have a very The Darkness-like vibe, much to Kurt’s chagrin, as he had always felt they were a blend of Iggy Pop and Queen.

In terms of being a human being, Sebastian had been abhorrent, _especially_ to Kurt.  He had cruelly laughed when one magazine described Kurt as “the gorgeous female lead singer” and a popular blog noted Kurt’s costume as “something even Lady Gaga wouldn’t wear”.  Sebastian had been disgustingly nice to Daniel, Ben and Britta; he had always bought them coffee, doled out hugs and high fives after every great review, and accommodated for their previous commitments.  For Kurt, Sebastian had purposely ordered whole-fat mochas, not-so-playfully punched his arm, and scheduled crucial events when he knew Kurt was unavailable. 

Kurt had never let Sebastian get under his skin.  He _was_ going to make it big, and if dealing with his obnoxious and conceited manager was something he needed to do in order to achieve stardom, he would suffer through it. Besides, _no one_  pushes the Hummel’s around.

He had no idea why Sebastian treated him like shit.  Kurt had always chalked it up to jealousy because who _wouldn’t_ be envious of Kurt Hummel? Being the lead singer of a decently popular band meant Kurt had received the most attention from fans.  When he wore his glam costume on stage, he was the quintessential posterboy for androgyny.  He knew he was desired by hundreds, which probably pissed Sebastian off even more. 

Kurt always had the mentality that everyone typically hated their boss and this circumstance was no different. 

 

*** ***

  


It was their biggest gig yet -- Electric Transmission.  Sebastian finagled this show for weeks; he knew that if he could get Glitter Thirst to perform a quick setlist, they would be guaranteed the kind of press they needed to blow up.   
  
The group stood in the dressing room backstage and put the last minute touches on their outfits.  Kurt admired himself in the full length mirror, as his silver panted nails ran through his hair.

“You’ve never looked better,” Britta placed her hand soothingly on his shoulder and smiled at his reflection.  Kurt was wearing his tallest possible pair of black leather boots which rode up well above his knees with liquid tight silver jeans underneath.  He smoothed out his leather studded coat as Britta used up the fourth bottle of hairspray on his over-the-top pompadoured hair.  Kurt completed his look by applying the last of the thick black eyeliner ringing his blue eyes, smearing body glitter over his chest, neck, and into his hair.

“Show time, guys, they’re calling you,” Sebastian banged from the other side of the door.  Daniel jumped to the door and swiftly pulled it open.  Sebastian looked past Daniel to grin at Britta and Ben and motioned they join him in the hall.  The members of Glitter Thirst jogged past Sebastian, earning a shoulder clap or fist bump as they passed. Kurt strode up to him and simply smirked as his eyes met Sebastian’s.    “Don’t fuck this, Hummel. A _lot_ is riding on tonight,” he barbed. 

Kurt’s painted lips curled into sneer as he cocked his hip to the side.  “Oh, sweetheart, how naive of you to think that after all this time, I’m capable of fucking things that _aren’t_ gorgeous men.” He lightly smacked his hand against Sebastian’s cheek and turned to join the rest of his band backstage, feeling Sebastian’s gaze linger on him as he climbed the stairs to the stage. 

_This is it, Kurt. This is your moment to shine like the rock star you are._

He stepped across the stage as the crowd screamed and clapped below, spotlights shining directly in his field of vision, enhancing the shine of his luminescent costume.  He gripped the microphone stand and surveyed the group of fans jumping and reaching for him.  Kurt licked his lips, gave a sharp nod to Daniel and shouted into the mic,

“Helloooo New York! We are Glitter Thirst!”

Their hour long setlist was incredibly successful.  As Glitter Thirst exited the stage, they were met with dozens of clamoring groupies standing outside their dressing room.  Cameras began to flash and blind the group as screams echoed throughout the dark hall. 

Kurt politely waved as two young girls shrieked into their hands as he made eye contact while a handsome man shoved his phone in Kurt’s face, pulling him down to take a picture.  Kurt felt a strong pair of hands grip his shoulders and haul him backwards.  Sebastian firmly directed him into the dressing room and slammed the door behind them, leaving the remaining members of the band amongst the throngs of groupies. 

“What was that for? You know signing autographs is my favorite part of performing; I bet a thousand girls want me to sign their boobs out there,” Kurt grinned.

“Shut up, Kurt, this is serious.  I was just approached by Charlotte Wong.”

Kurt steadied himself against the dressing room mirror and swallowed, trying to moisten his drying mouth.   “ _The_ Charlotte Wong? The woman from Pizzicato Records? What’d she what?”

“What the fuck do you think she’d want, Kurt,” Sebastian snapped, placing his hands on his hips.  “I heard rumors that she wanted new talent, so I had some people of mine suggest she come to the club tonight.”

Letting the back of his head lightly thud against the wood frame of the mirror, Kurt pinched his nose from anxiety.  “Oh, God, _that’s_ why you said to not fuck this up. Did she say anything?”

Giving his nauseating smirk, Sebastian closed the space between them and said, “She wants to sign you.” 

Kurt’s eyes bugged as his entire face drained in color. “Don’t fuck around,” he managed to croak. He placed his palms on Sebastian’s shoulders and shot a piercing glare into his eyes. “If this is a cruel joke, I will be sure to personally call Dennis and explain why his brother is in a body bag.”

“Relax, princess, I wouldn’t lie about this.  Charlotte said you guys have the right sorta feel that Pizzicato wants to explore at this time. She noted you sounded particularly amazing, which makes me question her credibility as a talent scout. If I was her, I’d replace you with someone actually talented _then_ we’d talk.”

“Douchebag,” Kurt shoved Sebastian backwards at full force; Sebastian only laughed as he caught his balance.  Kurt let the moment sink in for a minute before he squealed and spun around in his spot. “I’m actually going to be on a CD, like a legitimate recording artist. I’m going to be _famous_.  We’ve gotta tell everybody!”   Kurt darted for the door, but was stopped by Sebastian firmly twisting the lock.

“They’re going to be busy signing autographs for a while.  I figured we could celebrate first.” Sebastian shrugged off his leather coat and flung it over the dressing room makeup chair.  From his jeans pocket, he retrieved a plastic bag containing a fine, white powder.  “Can you handle this, darling?”

Kurt’s face twisted into scowl. “Of course I can. I’m in a rock band in New York City, it’s stupid of you to think I haven’t done every drug possible.”  He snatched the bag from Sebastian’s hands and made his way to the small glass coffee table in the center of the room.  Kurt wasn’t lying, exactly, when he said he’d done every drug possible. He’d been exposed to a myriad of illicit substances, but only ever indulged in pot the odd time with Britta.  But tonight, Kurt Hummel was being signed to a major record company and shooting into stardom, which has only been his dream since ever.

Sebastian followed and sat on the floor, his legs splayed under the table.  He reached for his wallet and pulled out a couple bills, flipping one to Kurt.   “Really, Sebastian? A dollar? I’d like to think I’m high-class enough for a fifty.” Kurt poured the cocaine onto the glass, arranging neat lines with his credit card. 

“Not to me, I assign denominations based on your value. Frankly, you should be thankful I’m even sharing my coke with you in the first place.”

Kurt cut through the powder, feeling the slight crunching of the fine granules beneath his fingertips. “Why _are_ you doing this with me?” he asked.

Sebastian shrugged. “As much as it pains me to admit this, you’re the leader of the group. I suppose you deserve this.”

“Hmm,” Kurt hummed.  He took the dollar -- _Goddamn asshole_ \--, and rolled it between his glitter stained fingers.  He watched as Sebastian did the same and posed the rolled bill above one of the fine lines of coke. 

“Cheers,” he said before he inhaled the powder through the bill.

Kurt stared down at the cocaine and placed his bill slightly above the line.  He held one of his nostrils closed with his thumb as he carefully stuck the dollar in the entrance of the other nostril.  Kurt breathed in hard as the powder traveled up the bill and into his nasal passageway, sniffing harder to ensure the coke entered all the way into his nose.  He shook his head quickly and sniffed again, trying to rid sinuses of the burning feeling that was rapidly consuming his face.  A medicinal taste began to drip down the back of his throat, so he grimaced as he swallowed to purge his mouth of the flavor. 

The feeling in Kurt’s limbs slowly began to wash away, and was replaced with a light, airy numbness, as his heart raced against his sternum. Kurt turned to Sebastian and looked at him with slightly blurred vision; Sebastian was well into his third line of coke, sniffing loudly and wiping any residue from his nasal passage with his thumb.  He turned to Kurt and winked deviously.

“What’re waiting for, princess? This coke isn’t going to snort itself.”

 _Princess_.

The term of “endearment” sounded ridiculous to Kurt’s ears.  He let out a high pitched giggle and clapped his hands together.   “Princess! You _should_ treat me like royalty. Because of _me_ you’re going to gain incredible publicity. Shame it all has to come to an end, really.”

Sebastian stared up at Kurt, his pupils dilated and unfocused. Letting out a chuckle, he asked, “What do you mean ending?”

Kurt jumped to his feet and pointed down at Sebastian. “Well dear, dear Sebastian, it means that now that I’m going to be outrageously rich and successful, I won’t ever have to see your ugly, smirking, meerkat face ever again! Au revoir!” Kurt let out an exaggerated cackle as he wiped the smudging eyeliner from the corner of his eye.

Sebastian, hazy from the drugs, could only laugh, “You _wish_ , Hummel,” unsure of the implications of Kurt’s words. 

Kurt retorted, in an excitable tone, “Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out.” He turned to look at himself in the mirror, taking notice of his smudging makeup and iridescent skin, and giggled. Kurt felt so good in this moment, completely giddy and overcome with happiness.  He couldn’t recall any other time in his life where he felt _this_ amazing.  Sure, the drugs were helping to achieve this notion, but the fact that Kurt’s band was signing onto a major record label helped greatly.  He threw his leather coat across the room and screamed with laughter as it hit a lamp, sending it crashing to the floor.   “I’m a real fucking rock star! Fuck you, midwest. Fuck you, Broadway. Fuck _you_ , Sebastian.”

Kurt could feel his heart practically leaping out of his chest as he jumped to Sebastian, who was still splayed on the ground, staring up at Kurt with an incredulous grin plastered on his face. _His disgusting face_ , Kurt noted. 

“I thought you’d never suggest it, gorgeous,” Sebastian clawed his fingers around the collar of Kurt’s undershirt and pulled him roughly into a sloppy kiss.  Kurt’s eyes widened and he giggled against Sebastian’s mouth -- this is certainly not how he thought events would transpire. 

 _So he wasn’t jealous this whole time, he was just pissed he couldn’t be with me_ , Kurt thought, as Sebastian deepened the kiss by tracing his tongue along the seam of Kurt’s lips.  He broke away and stared into Sebastian’s unclear eyes while smirking,  “I _knew_ you wanted me.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Sebastian groaned and lunged forward, knocking Kurt completely flat against the floor.  Sebastian dragged his hands along Kurt’s thighs, tugging his legs around Sebastian’s waist.  Kurt chuckled as Sebastian tickled his neck when he grabbed his shoulder to steady himself.

“I can’t believe that you, the biggest asshole in the whole universe, wanted me this whole fucking time.  God, it must have _killed_ you to see all those groupies squeal for _me_ , to want to bend me over that table and screw me senseless knowing you couldn’t! Tell me, sweetheart, where did you picture this happening? Dressing room? Your apartment? Ooh, I bet it was on stage, wasn’t it?” laughed Kurt, as Sebastian’s mouth moved from Kurt’s lips, along his jawline, and down his neck.  He could feel Sebastian’s tongue flick across his collarbone, and despite himself, Kurt let out a small moan. 

“I said shut the fuck up,” Sebastian growled against his neck.  He roughly smacked his palm against Kurt’s mouth and pushed his head back against the floor, attempting to silence Kurt’s insults.  This only caused Kurt to emit muffled sniggering from beneath Sebastian’s hand. 

As hilariously fun as this was, Kurt felt himself coming down from his high; the medicinal taste was gone and his heart was steadying to a normal pace.  He wasn’t done creating that _feeling_ , though, especially since he had a somewhat (very) attractive man practically begging to have sex with him.    Kurt roughly pushed Sebastian backwards onto his haunches.  “Take off your shirt,” he ordered.  Sebastian, pleased that their actions were escalating, hurriedly tore off his T-shirt and tossed it behind him.  “Lie on your back,” Kurt commanded.  Obediently, Sebastian laid down, cradling his hands behind his head as a sly smile spreading across his face.    

“I knew you’d give into me, eventually. It was only a matter of time.”

Lacing his fingers through the belt loops on Sebastian’s jeans, Kurt dragged him harshly forward, closer to the table.  He pinned Sebastian’s chest to the floor with his knee, as he scraped a line’s worth of cocaine onto the unfolded dollar bill with his credit card.  Kurt gently let the powder fall onto Sebastian’s abdominal muscles; he watched as they tightened when he lightly scraped the card onto Sebastian’s skin, collecting the coke into a neat row. 

Sebastian gasped as Kurt’s fingers traced along his abs, drawing patterns as he pushed the cocaine.  Kurt rolled the dollar bill tightly and bent down, his face inches away from Sebastian’s stomach. He turned and flashed Sebastian a devilish grin before he poised the dollar above the line and began to inhale.  Once he had snorted all that he could, Kurt flicked his tongue along Sebastian’s abdominal muscles, licking any remaining traces of cocaine from his stomach.  Kurt smirked as the man moaned beneath him, arching his back with every sweep of Kurt’s tongue.  He trailed up Sebastian’s chest until he reached the base of his throat.  Kurt felt the familiar feeling of numbness take over his body and he sat up to straddle Sebastian’s lap.

“I fucking hate you, Sebastian Smythe. For months, you’ve treated me like complete shit and didn’t bat an eyelash.  It’s cute how you think like a little schoolboy does, that by pulling my pigtails I’ll fall madly in love with you.  But, guess what? Kurt Hummel does _not_ fall for that.” Kurt shifted backwards so his ass could rub against the crotch of Sebastian’s jeans.  He let out a moan, causing Kurt to burst out laughing.  He continued to slowly grind on Sebastian’s crotch and said, “You want me so badly, don’t you? It’s your lucky day because you’re going to get me, in a way. You’ll get the satisfaction of saying that you were fucked by _the_ Kurt Hummel on his way to the top.  It’ll be a nice sendoff before I fire you.”

Kurt’s heart was beating a mile a minute as he dragged his ass against Sebastian.  He could feel Sebastian’s hard-on straining against the zipper of his pants with every thrust, so he quickly stood up, being a tease.  Feeling lightheaded, he stumbled to the dressing room mirror and pulled out a condom and package of lube from the drawer, pausing to admire his appearance in the mirror.  Kurt pushed back a couple loose strands of hair into his pompadour and wiped the smudged lipstick from his chin, his body glitter glowing under the light.  Sebastian sauntered up to Kurt and stared at him, making eye contact in the mirror.

“You won’t be able to get rid of me that easily.  Once I’m done with you, you’ll be begging me to take you back and I’m not too sure if I want to give you the satisfaction.” 

Kurt scoffed, “Please, I’m off to better and _bigger_ things after you,” he said as his eyes flicked towards Sebastian’s clothed hard-on in the mirror’s reflection.  He smirked as he saw red stain across Sebastian’s cheeks.  Kurt swiftly turned around, grabbed the condom and lube, and drew him into a hard kiss, biting at Sebastian’s lower lip as their teeth lightly clashed.  Sebastian moaned as he fumbled with the zipper of his jeans.  Kurt abruptly shoved his hand into Sebastian’s pants as he began to palm his erection. 

“Fuck,” Sebastian breathed against Kurt’s mouth as he wrapped his fingers around Sebastian’s cock.  Kurt, still kissing him, led Sebastian backwards to the back of the leather couch and pulled down his jeans and briefs in one quick motion. 

Kurt raised his eyebrow almost tauntingly as he spun Sebastian around and bent him over the back of the sofa.  He undid the fly of his practically painted on jeans and shoved them down to the top of his boots. _He is not getting the satisfaction of seeing me completely naked_ Kurt thought as ripped opened the packet of lube. 

He slathered his first two fingers and slowly began to tease around Sebastian’s entrance. Chuckling to himself, he slowly inserted his fingers and thrust them in and out of Sebastian, dragging the motion out as painfully slow as possible, as he heard Sebastian’s stifled moans from the other side of the couch.  He felt Sebastian tighten up around his fingers, causing him to fuck into him harder.  Kurt began to lightly stroke his own growing erection, mimicking his strokes with the ones of his fingers in Sebastian. 

“Just do it already,” Sebastian snarled, turning around to see what Kurt was doing.  “What is the fucking hold up?”    

“Shh.” Kurt grabbed the back of Sebastian’s head and twisted it away from him, orienting his face straight forward. “I want to hear you beg.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Smythe’s don’t _beg_ ,” he snapped. 

Kurt snickered as he felt the muscles clench in Sebastian’s jaw. “That’s fine, I can stop,” he said sweetly.

Defeated, Sebastian panted “Okay. Kurt, fuck me.”

“I didn’t hear a please?”

“God, fuck, _please_ , Kurt,” Sebastian spat out. 

Satisfied with this, Kurt ripped open the wrapper with his teeth and rolled the condom down his cock.  He squeezed the rest of the lube onto his dick and hissed as he smeared it around his erection. Kurt lined up the head of his cock with Sebastian’s entrance and slowly pushed in, watching as he sunk deeper and deeper into the other man.    Sebastian groaned and gripped the leather cushions below as Kurt shallowly thrust into him, his one hand left his one hand on Sebastian’s head as the other clutched his hipbone.  He steadied himself and made harder, deeper thrusts into Sebastian, small groans escaping his lips. 

Kurt began to pick up the pace, feeling completely numb.  He laughed as he thought of what he was doing, how he was fucking his manager whom he despised on the same night he found out he was going to be a star. There was so much satisfaction in Kurt’s actions, knowing that he was making Sebastian fall apart from his touch. 

Kurt’s fingers clenched harder around Sebastian’s hair as he steadily felt his orgasm building in the pit of his stomach.  Beneath him, Sebastian was emitting a string of broken moans with every thrust, the head of Kurt’s cock hitting his prostate.  Kurt felt him squeeze around his dick, only increasing the pleasurable feeling spreading throughout the lower half of his body.  He began to erratically pump into Sebastian, whose stomach was hitting the couch rhythmically. 

Feeling like his heart was beating out of his chest, Kurt plunged deep into Sebastian as his orgasm took over.  He let out a loud groan and collapsed on top of Sebastian, still shallowly thrusting into him. Kurt breathed heavily as he let his arms drop heavy of the side of Sebastian’s body, his shirt sticking from sweat to the back of Sebastian’s bare back.  When his dick became too sensitive, Kurt slowly pulled out and slide the condom off of his cock, throwing it into the garbage can.  He pulled up his underwear and did the fly on his jeans. 

Sebastian slowly lifted himself off of the back of the couch and turned to Kurt, his painfully hard erection still present. 

“Do I at least get a reach around, or something?” Sebastian grinned, leaning against the back of the couch. 

Kurt turned to face the mirror, making sure he didn’t seem too disheveled.  He looked at Sebastian and singlehandedly tugged him into a kiss.

“You should be so lucky,” Kurt breathed against his mouth.  Pulling away he quirked his eyebrow and maliciously smiled at Sebastian, snatching his leather coat from the ground and sliding it over his shoulders.  Kurt sniffed loudly, ensuring no traces of cocaine was left in his nasal passage, and headed for the door. 

“Kurt,” Sebastian trailed off, looking helpless. 

Unlocking the door, Kurt hastily pulled it open. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” he winked, as he stepped out into the crowd of screams and flashbulbs. 

As he smiled and waved to the throngs of avid fans, he could only think how tonight _was_ the night everything changed and that there was nothing in this world that could stand in the way of making Kurt Hummel a star. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Tom Tom Club's "Genius of Love"


End file.
